Online Reaper
by DustStorm543
Summary: welcome to my rendition of the SAO world. Will follow canon but from a more side born perspective, might make a few changes but will try and hold true to the story as best I can. KiritoXAsuna (obviously), OCXArgo (maybe another XOC…not sure), and maybe if I feel like it KleinX? (most likely Lizbeth) just cause even he deserves happiness. rating is mostly precaution for slight gore.


A/N: hello all, and welcome to my attempt at a 'Sword Art Online' fic. Whether or not it's any good will be up to you, I hope you like it, if not then why the fuck are you here… so, here you go, check it out and give me your opinion (unless it's pointless hate mail, then just shove it up yer arse ya useless fuck wit)… anyways, enjoy to the best of your abilities when the main context for you to enjoy happens to not be owned by me (my disclaimer, not going to bother doing it again after this)… and here ya go :D

Key:

"Talking/_thinking"_

**"System announcement/Event/Monsters"**

(My comments)

'PMs/text'

{In-game terms/names/techniques}

{XXX} _~time skip~ _{XXX}

}XXX{ -place jump- }XXX{

~~-flashback-~~

* * *

Online Reaper

Prologue: the grim reaper goes virtual

"Just put the damn bag down and you can walk away." Spoke the shadowed figure holding a large blade to the throat of his quivering target; said target being a simple man in his early twenties who had been on his way home after buying literally _the_ last copy of the new VRMMORPG from his local game store. However as he was passing an alleyway on his trek back home, someone had called for help from within the dark confines of the alley. Now he liked to consider himself a law-abiding and upstanding citizen, so he thought he would see if he could lend a hand to whoever was calling out. All his kind heartedness led him to, was a figure wrapped in a black cloak and a large scythe; of all things; threatening to slit his throat if he didn't hand over all his valuables.

He had already handed over his wallet, phone and any jewellery he had on, yet now his assailant was demanding the very expensive game he had just bought. The self-perceived 'Good Samaritan's reflections were cut short when the curved scythe blade being held to his neck drew closer, a thin trail of red dribbling out from under it as the hooded figure spoke again in his careful monotone. "Last chance to leave with your life, either put the bag down or I _will_ kill you." It was all the incentive his victim needed to drop the bag into his waiting hand.

After checking it was what he wanted in the bag, the cloaked figure grunted in satisfaction and pulled his blade away from his sweating target. Stepping back deeper into the shadows of the alleyway he made one last comment before flitting away into the dark passage, "I thank you for your patronage kind sir. When you tell the police about this as I'm sure you will, let them know the Kage Karitori (shadow reaper) sends his regards." That was the last the suddenly exhausted man heard before passing out from the kick back of his adrenalin rush at his close encounter with the most notorious thief in the city.

The cloaked figure stepped back out into the light and looked down at crumpled man at his feet, throwing his hood back to reveal a fifteen year old boy with lanky uneven sandy blonde hair, a pale complexion, possibly from spending too much time inside, and very strange mismatched eyes; the one on the right being a very dark gold colour while the one on the left was a light amethyst. Chuckling to himself the youth shucked his cloak off and hastily folded it up before stuffing it into a side pocket of the bag of golf clubs he had left sitting just out of view further down the alley.

Next he set about carefully folding the blade of his scythe closer the shaft, much like a swiss army knife. Once it was as close to the shaft as he could get it, he flipped a small catch built into the shaft up over the end of the blade, holding it in place so he could let go of the blade, he then folded the shaft in half and flipped another larger catch from the bottom of the shaft up over the end of the blade closer to where it turned from. Once he checked that both catches were secure, he moved a few of the clubs around in the bag until a larger than normal slot was made clear. Carefully sliding the folded weapon into its hiding place he put a spare cover over the ends of the staff sticking out.

Heaving the golf bag onto his back, the teenager dusted his ratty jeans off and tightened the laces of his sneakers before swiping up the bag with his 'newly acquired' copy of {Sword Art Online} and jogging out of the alley. Letting the sun hit his plain white shirt and dark red leather jacket as he made his way through the streets towards his apartment. Thinking to himself, he checked the time while looking through the contents of his 'newly acquired' phone. _"Just past 12. I'm ahead of schedule, must be a good day."_

If only he knew how wrong he was.

{XXX} ~_12:30 a.m._ apartment complex- }XXX{

The calm quiet of the simple apartment complex was shattered by one of the doors on the upper floors being slammed open, followed shortly by a cry of "Honey I'm home!", this cry was then followed by another, slightly more disgruntled, shout of "Pipe down ya sandy haired little bastard!" from the apartment next door to the one just opened,

"Go back to fucking your whore of a wife Bechi-teme!" was the oh-so-eloquent reply the disgruntled tenant received from the cross colour eyed youth. After stepping into his simple abode the youth heard the aforementioned wife call out to him, "Kiss my Latino ass Setsuna!" The teen called back in an overly theatrical tone, "I would dearly love to oblige you Kara-chan but alas, unlike you or your fat useless pig of a husband, I actually have things to do with my life, and so I must decline your generous offer." before slamming the door to his apartment shut, cutting off whatever reply he would have gotten.

Turning to look over his small and dingy one person apartment the now known Setsuna muttered to himself, "What little life I have…" before setting the cumbersome golf bag down next to the door. He set the bag with 'his' new game in it on the table in the middle of his living room before throwing himself onto the ratty couch just beside it.

After a minute of simply lying there with an arm covering his eyes, Setsuna lifted himself off the couch and moved into the small kitchen for a quick snack before it was time log in. After sating his hunger the teen checked the time and saw he had about ten or so minutes left and set about making sure everything was ready. Once he was sure it was all set, he plugged in and powered up his actually paid for Nervegear and pulled it over his head. Lying back on his small bed he checked the time on the visor. He only had to wait a few seconds before the numbers changed to what he had been waiting for; Setsuna smirked to himself and muttered "Good bye reality, hello {Aincrad}. Link start." and his vision went black.

* * *

A/N: and there you have my introduction to what I hope to be an at least somewhat interesting story. If you didn't like it then please just leave, don't waste my or your own time by flaming me seeing as all it will achieve is making you seem like an egotistic prick with nothing better to do with your time, and leave me with an obligation to rant mostly unnecessary insults at you to make us even.

Setsuna: about damn time you got around to this! I've been stuck frozen in my real shitty life for over a month and in that time all you have managed to write is a measly three and a bit word pages!

DS: well excuse me for the utter lack of motivation or inspiration. And you hardly have any reason to complain seeing as this has been one of the ones I've actually been trying to get shit done on. Look at the list of other story ideas I have that are just sitting there gathering digital dust!

Setsuna: is there such a thing as digital dust?

DS: how the fuck should I know

Setsuna: well you brought it up

DS: and you're making a big deal out of it

Setsuna: no I'm not, you are

DS: no you are

Setsuna: nope, you

DS: you!

Setsuna: you're typing what I'm saying

DS: …

Setsuna: HA! Out argued by your own imagina- *crrrrrrrrr…beep…beep…beep*

DS: (grins smugly) a note to all fictional characters that manage to have an audience with their creators, never argue or attempt to beat them at anything because, remember, they control your lives.

Ja ne ;)


End file.
